


Simon’s Summer

by Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Baz kisses Simon’s moles and freckles, Dramatic Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, First Kiss, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Fluffy Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, Freckles, Gay Simon Snow, Getting Together, Grinding, Humor, Idiots in Love, Inappropriate Humor, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentioned Agatha Wellbelove, My First Smut, Oblivious Simon Snow, POV First Person, POV Simon Snow, Pining Simon Snow, Playlist, Sexual Fantasy, Simon Snow Loves Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Simon Snow in Love, Simon Snow is Gay for Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Simon has a thing for long beautiful black hair for reasons that are unclear to him, Simon is worried that his love confession wasn't as romantic as it could have been, Soft Simon Snow, Summer before Watford Eighth year, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Loves Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow in Love, Watford Eighth Year, he just doesn’t understand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:40:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21646147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire/pseuds/Sharing_a_room_with_an_open_fire
Summary: [Explicit] 18+ characters.There is a bloke, Faruk, he transferred to this care home in July. His bed is next to mine and I undeniably loath him.I have no idea why but I found myself obsessed with Faruk. He isn’t that fit but he has very beautiful black hair. And he keeps it long. Who does that a care home?Simon’s sexual awakening, followed by certain realisations in regards to Baz.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 8
Kudos: 131





	Simon’s Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of love and thanks to amazing friend and beta Blue [mybluebucketofsnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybluebucketofsnow/pseuds/mybluebucketofsnow). 💙
> 
> Playlists (Spotify):
> 
> [Simon’s Summer](https://open.spotify.com/user/jyhh3lv46hl1ktbhv35n3uzk7/playlist/4eth4ZJ53YJGH7XOYROP8v?si=mc6GEJ5-QiSyVbJ71JojEA) (English only)
> 
> [Simon’s Summer extended](https://open.spotify.com/user/jyhh3lv46hl1ktbhv35n3uzk7/playlist/51RCwShi7KsVgRJK7XYG6N?si=D_V6i7W1T7OgGIMgIH0XWQ)
> 
> Please give this terrible music video and song a try:  
> [What's that girl doing with that boy?](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TrmoBl5i0RQ)  
> Switch ”girl” to ”boy” with a few minor changes to the lyrics and it is Simon Snow’s essence AKA a dumbass with a cross 🤣 (I was laughing **a lot** when I found it.)
> 
> While writing chapter three of ”Were you ever here?” I've been feeling particularly blue. This little whimsical/steamy story is my way of dealing with all the pain🙃

# SIMON

  
  


Every summer I end up at a different care home and every next one is worse than the one before. But this year has been terrible beyond anything.

There is a bloke, Faruk, he transferred to this care home in July. His bed is next to mine and I undeniably loath him.

I have no idea why but I found myself obsessed with Faruk. He isn’t that fit but he has very beautiful black hair. And he keeps it long. Who does that a care home? 

I keep getting hard every time I look at him. It makes me angry because I don’t even like him. I just like his hair. 

What. The. Fuck? 

I’m not even gay. _And_ I have a girlfriend. 

What is it about his hair anyway? Is it a fetish?

I never fantasied about Agatha’s hair. I also never fantasized about Agatha in general. (Because it would be wrong to do that, not because I don’t want to. I respect her too much I guess.)

And I don’t want to see her naked either. (Because that would be disrespectful too. You shouldn’t imagine your girlfriend naked.)

That’s normal. I guess it makes sense that because I don’t actually fancy Faruk it’s fine to get myself off while thinking about his hair. It’s purely physical and completely normal for a straight bloke to do so. I’m sure all blokes do it this way.

I don’t like him at all. He is the most annoying person I ever met. And he is holier-than-thou. Wears his cross everywhere. (Even sleeps with it. Who does that?)

I know I also sleep with my cross back at Watford. But that’s because I share a room with an evil vampire who wants to drain me in my sleep.

Who is this idiot trying to protect himself from? And he goes to church every Sunday. Faruk thinks he is a good person because of that. Always disapproving of everybody who fights. (I fight a lot.) He is so infuriating but also fit because of his hair. I really like looking at it.

He’s a complete idiot too. My magic makes me smell like smoke. Normals think I smoke. I’m not. Faruk thinks I do.

The problem is that he keeps telling me that some boys have asthma and that my smoking is making their asthma worse. (I smell like smoke, there is no _actual_ smoke there to provoke an asthma attack.)

So unless those boys are allergic to the smell alone they have nothing to worry about.

But the git is obsessed with proving me wrong. He keeps following me around and spying on me. Seriously? Does he not have anything better to do with his time? Get a bloody hobby, Faruk!

The problem is that I can’t even look at him properly during the day because the twat never takes his eyes off me. (He is convinced that if he follows me enough he will finally catch me smoking.)

 _I don’t smoke._ There’s no need telling him that. He doesn’t believe anything I have to say. He thinks I’m a despicable bully because I fight. Yeah, I get in a lot of fights. Doesn’t make me a bully.

I really don’t understand how I can be so hot for such a fool. I just want him for some reason. 

The only time I get to look at him as much as I want is during the night. His bed is by the window and there’s a streetlight just outside. I can see him pretty well, but he can’t see me.

I know it sounds creepy. But it’s not like I can do anything in the shower. The wanker keeps sneaking on me everywhere. (Nobody can smoke in the shower!) (He’s an absolute idiot.)

I’m not exactly proud of this but I have been enjoying looking at him every night. There is something about him I can’t really put my finger on. It just feels right looking at his hair.

As soon as everybody is asleep I wrap a hand around my cock. I can’t help it. Faruk keeps his hair up during the day (that is hot) but at night he lets it out (even hotter). I keep watching his black hair spread on the cushion and I’m gone for it.

I tried to look at the rest of him but that just ruins the mood for me. His eyes are all wrong, his skin is too golden and his nose is too straight. For some reason, I think I prefer a crooked nose. That’s just weird and makes _no sense_ at all — Agatha’s nose is straight.

So instead I let myself look at his hair and feel my cock twitch at the sight of it. I keep imagining all kind of sexual scenarios and his hair has been playing a big role in every one of my fantasies.

I must really have a hair fetish. There could literally not be _any other_ _explanation_ for this.

I thought that maybe after a few times I get it out of my system. I haven’t. I’ve been wanking every night and nothing has changed. Well, that is not completely true. I started to dream about him.

At least I think it’s him. I can only remember _black hair_ , the rest is kinda blurry. I wake up every morning hard with my heart pumping out of my chest despite furiously wanking every night.

After a few weeks of this, I realised that I _might_ be gay. 

My fantasies have been getting less and less innocent.

I imagined him on his knees sucking my cock while I hold his head and let my fingers slide through his hair. In my fantasy I would hold him by his head, feeling the strands of his hair between my fingers until I come with a grunt. 

Another time I thought of bending him over the bed and fucking him while pulling his head towards me with a fistful of his hair. And then in the fantasy, I would fuck him while looking at his hair until I came.

I take back what I said earlier. I don’t think that I might be gay anymore. I’m _definitely_ gay. Because I don’t think that the reason I never fantasized about Agatha was that I respected her _too much_ for that.

I’m pretty sure the biggest issue was Agatha’s lack of a dick for starters. And apparently, I need something particular too — black hair.

That I really don’t get. I still don’t understand why I’m having so many fantasies about Faruk. I’m not attracted to him _at all_. I don’t even see his face in any of my fantasies and hardly any of his body. That is kind of weird. That can’t be normal, to only get off on his hair, can it?

The streetlight broke down yesterday but the moon was out. So I imagined standing behind him in the semidark room, moving his hair from his neck, letting my fingers get tangled in it and kissing his neck. We both looked grey in the moonlight.

That time I wanted to look at all of him and move my hands all over his body. I imagined leaning him down on the bed and kissing his stomach. Then I imagined taking his cock in my mouth and work on him until he was moaning and coming in my mouth.

I dreamed about Faruk again that night. (Or so I thought.) I woke up with a memory of _black hair_ , _alabaster skin_ , _grey eyes_ and _a crooked nose_.

_Oh._

Fuck. Me.

This whole time I’ve been having sex dreams about _Baz_. How haven’t I realized it before?

It should come as a big surprise. But it suddenly makes so much more sense. I fancy Baz. Yeah… I could see how that could have happened. Baz is _very fit_. I always thought so.

There have also been other signs through the years that I might have missed. Like how I liked watching Baz during football practice and enjoyed a view of the flex of his muscles and his sweaty chest.

How I wanted to move Baz’s hair from his forehead when he was studying in concentration and hasn’t noticed when it got in his eyes. How I watched him sleep sometimes with his hair sprawled on the cushion and a peaceful smile on his lips. How something twitched inside my chest every time Baz went inside the en suite to take a shower. 

Yeah… So much is finally making sense. I realized that there’s a list in my head about all the things I always wanted to do to Baz that I apparently tried very hard not to acknowledge to myself. Well... I can’t avoid thinking about it anymore can I now? Not when I know about it. There is no going back.

I want Baz more than I want sour cherry scones. That says it all. (I don’t want the scones sexually.) (But I did like the scones more than I liked Agatha.)

The following night I fantasized about kissing Baz’s perfect lips, jaw, neck, stomach... Kissing every inch of Baz’s body. I fantasized about having sex with Baz while watching his beautiful face and listening to his moans of pleasure.

Something warm was spreading through my body and I felt butterflies in my stomach at the thought of Baz coming while moaning _my name_.

I came harder than I ever did in my life with a louder than I would have prefered _Baz_ slipping from my lips. I’m lucky no one woke up from this.

That night I didn’t have a sex dream. I dreamed about Baz sleeping in my arms with a smile on his lips. I dreamed about us waking up together with our bodies entangles in each other and me greeting Baz with a kiss and a _Good Morning, darling_.

Something tells me it’s not purely physical.

_I’m pretty sure I’m in love with Baz._

* * *

As soon as I got back to Watford for our final year I broke up with Agatha and was waiting for Baz to show up. I have to tell him. I’m pretty sure he might at least be attracted to me. Hopefully, it's more than just attraction.

Wasn’t he watching me fifth year too? I thought that he looked at me that way (without a sneer) to confuse me. But now I think he might have looked at me like that because he fancies me. I really hope I’m right about this and Baz wants me and not Agatha.

Baz is finally here and I can’t get the words out. I should have practised what I was about to say. But I’m not exactly _thinking first before doing_ kind of bloke. 

“Baz - You - I - Well - “

He gives me a particular nasty sneer. 

“Spit it out, Snow.”

And he’s hot even like this. 

Merlin, Baz is _so hot_.

I lock eyes with him.

 _“Fuck it,”_ I say, take him by the back of his neck and smash our lips together.

Baz lips are frozen against mine and I’m regretting every decision I ever made that brought me to this particular moment. Just as I’m about to pull away his lips start getting softer and he parts them a bit. (Thank magic.)

Before I even get to register what is happening Baz is violently kissing me back and pushes me against the wall.

I give as good as I get. I tangled one hand in his hair, another on his arse and grind against him. (I really like Baz’s hair. But also the rest of him. _A lot_.)

We’ve been snogging for a while now. I like him like this. Under my thumb. Under my hands.

Speaking of my hands. They are all over Baz. I want to feel every part of him and I _need_ to feel his cock. He’s hard already and so am I.

Baz has latched himself to my neck and I guess I should be worried but instead I wonder if I could come just from _this_. Because it’s _that hot_. Nothing can beat this.

I was wrong. Because Baz just got to his knees and it feels as if he’s sucking the life out of me. My cock is twitching inside his mouth and I’m doing my best not to buck into him too much.

 _Jesus fucking Christ._ Baz still makes me swear like a Normal.

I never knew it could feel _so good._

I’m so overwhelmed with _Baz_ wanting _me_ , with how good his mouth feels around my cock, with how much _I_ want _him_ , that I come with _I love you, Baz_ spilling from my lips. That wasn’t how I was planning to tell him. For one it might not be very _romantic_. Also, Baz almost choked on my come when I said that. 

So, yeah... the timing wasn’t too great.

“Sorry,” I say because what else is there to say? It’s somewhat embarrassing now innit?

When Baz stops coughing he looks up at me with his face all scrunched up in confusion as if he isn’t quite sure if he heard me correctly. “You what?” He asks and he sounds a bit hoarse. _My fault._

I’m not going to take it back now, am I? That would make it all even worse. And I’m not afraid of my own feelings. (Now that I _know_ about them that is.)

“I’m in love with you, Baz. You don’t have to say it back. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same.” I add a silent _yet_ in my head. Because I hope he will, one day.

Baz eyes flash something menacing at me. He gets up, sends me flying to his bed with my back first (he’s lucky he has vampire strengths, I’m pretty heavy) and follows after. 

_Huh…_ The Anathema hasn’t kicked in. That’s interesting.

“You’re a moron,” he says and kisses my jaw. ”Did you know that? An absolute and utter moron.”

I’m not sure what this all means exactly. But Baz is on top of me, trailing kissing in some kind of order on my face, neck and upper body (I think he might be kissing my moles) and splutters humiliations against me.

It would almost be familiar territory if it wasn’t for the kissing. And there is no real malice in his voice. 

I let my hands roam around Baz’s back and let him vent. Because it seems as if that’s what he’s doing. I’m just not sure why. Why here and now?

Eventually, Baz runs out of insults. (It took him a while!) He looks me in the eye and says the last thing I expected him to, after the kind of runt he was on earlier.

“Simon, I’ve been in love with you almost since we met. You made my life a living hell because of it. And then you tell me you’re in love with me like _that_?”

Oh.

_Oh._

I get now why he needed to vent.

 _Baz loves me._ There are butterflies in my stomach and my heart feels light and heavy at the same time. I should say something but I‘m worried that nothing I can say right now could make this disastrous love confession better.

So I do what I have been dreaming of doing since I realized my feelings for Baz. I roll us over, kiss him very thoroughly on his mouth and everywhere else on his body I could reach and go for his perfect dick. (Because _yes_ it turns out Baz’s dick is just as perfect as the rest of him.)

I’ve wanted him for so long. (I _finally_ know that.) I savour every lick of my tongue, every kiss I trail with my lips and I keep sucking Baz’s cock until he comes in _my mouth_ moaning _my name._

At last after all this time.

I fall asleep with Baz in my arms and when we wake up the next morning I greet him with a kiss.

“Good Morning, darling,” I say and Baz practically melts in my arms, a little smile appears on his lips. (He’s trying to hide it.) I pull him closer to me (if it’s even possible) and kiss him again.

“Good Morning, love,“ he whispers back almost shyly and finally lets me see his beautiful smile. 

And it isn’t a dream this time. Baz is mine. It’s real. I’m the luckiest bloke on Earth.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. 😎


End file.
